


You Bring Out The Worst In Me

by ActualHurry



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, enemies to frenemies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 08:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16636301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualHurry/pseuds/ActualHurry
Summary: The Drifter thought that getting angry was the only thing that turned Shin Malphur on.(Takes place post-reveal of the Renegade as Shin.)





	You Bring Out The Worst In Me

For as long as they’d been doing this song and dance, it’d been the anger that did it.

The Drifter was no fool. He knew what buttons to push and what kinda output would come outta it, assuming he timed it right and played the game well. He knew that when Shin appeared on the Derelict and pushed him into the nearest wall that there was something on his mind that was pissing him off and he needed to vent it. Most people, Drifter just egged ‘em into Gambit. But the Renegade, Shin Malphur? There were better ways to go about relieving that tension. And even if Shin wasn’t aiming for the bed when he stopped by, rarer now that the mask had come off and his identity had come to light, Drifter still knew just how to get him there.

(Say what you would ‘bout sleeping with the enemy; Shin Malphur was a good fuck, and while Drifter’s bed partners hadn’t exactly _not_ pulled a gun on him before, Shin Malphur got way too tired to pull a trigger right after the fact. Meant Drifter had plenty of chances to ensure that he wasn’t getting a superheated bullet through his skull while naked.)  

It took Drifter awhile to catch onto the other thing, though. He was going through the parts he’d hoarded in the Tower when Shin clicked into their fireteam channel, left unused for a while. Hadn’t touched it since that Hail Mary letter he’d left behind. Still an asshole move, Drifter thought, bitterly impressed.

“Where are you?” Shin asked.

Something in his voice made Drifter raise his brows and pause what he was doing as he lifted a hand to the comm piece in his ear. He _had_ been paying attention to the Vanguard scanner, but this seemed more interesting all of a sudden.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Drifter found the part he was looking for, taking his Trust out in preparation to make some modifications.

“Drifter.”

“What? You finally huntin’ me, or –”

“You on the Tower?” Shin interrupted.

Drifter seethed. Silently, though. No need to be so transparent. “Why?”

“I’m on the way.”

And the line was empty outside of him again, just like that. Drifter stared down at his Trust for a second, attempting to parse what just happened, before he shrugged it off. All that was left to do was wait. He left the blueprint he’d made for Malfeasance on the table, just to dig the knife in a little deeper. Wouldn’t be the first time Shin’d laid eyes on it, anyway.

Shin ducked under the gate and had his helmet transmatted off halfway over to him. Drifter’s brows went up again, eyes following every movement Shin made as he came closer.

“You just come from patrol or somethin’?” Drifter asked, nose wrinkling curiously as he glanced over Shin’s appearance. Bruises dark under his eyes (nothing new), bullet-dinged armor and burned cloak edges (yikes), a certain prowl to his walk (nice). “Waste of time.”

Shin still smelled sharp like ether and laser burns and blood – whose? Didn’t matter, was hot – as he grabbed the nape of Drifter’s neck and pulled him close, hesitating only a heartbeat. Drifter wondered if the Renegade would’ve hesitated any. “Had a lead,” Shin said, and stopped at that.

A lead that’d kept him out of Drifter’s presence for about a month. Someone was hungry for the chase. Drifter gave a different chase to him, shaking himself free of the grabbing hand and pulling back only to skirt him and shut the gate leading out of the alley. “Guessin’ it didn’t work out the way you wanted,” Drifter remarked.

“I was...” Shin began. Drifter watched him flex his hands. “...Distracted.”

News to Drifter. He figured the man was more robot than any Exo. “Alright, I’ll bite. Why?”

Shin glared at him, and wasn’t it just a treat to see it. Drifter leaned against the wall, waiting patiently with a smile on his lips. He expected that Shin would throw himself at him and they’d get half-naked in the span of a few seconds, get right to the matter at hand, no fucking around about it. It was an easy relationship, even if it wasn’t the easiest damn person.  

Except Shin dropped to his knees in front of him instead, and Drifter –

That was a nice sight, was all. The beginning of interested heat crawled under his skin. He reached out, settled a hand into Shin’s hair.

“You’re kiddin’ me, brother,” Drifter said, words curling at the corners to keep the satisfaction at bay. “Distracted with _this_?”

Shin was already tugging his robes free without so much as a comeback, and Drifter sure as hell wasn’t about to stop him. He let him pull his bottoms down and get a dirty glove wrapped around his rapidly hardening cock, a slow exhale escaping his lips. Shin glanced up at him for a split second, met his gaze and instantly shut his eyes, getting his mouth on the base of his cock and licking upwards.

And to think, Drifter hadn’t even made him that fucking mad. Dizzied by it all, he dropped his head against the wall and laughed, grinning widely.

“Fuck, you musta just got back, too. Was this the first thing you set out to do? You wanted t’get on your knees for me?” Drifter breathed. He jolted when Shin pinched the inside of his thigh, but Shin sure as hell didn’t stop. “You’re some kinda fucked up, Renegade. _Shin_.”

Shin let teeth graze against the side of his dick and Drifter cautioned a rough, “ _Easy_ ,” before Shin took him entirely in his mouth, bobbing down to wet the length of him. Drifter groaned long and low in his throat, vindicated when he felt Shin’s efforts double.

“Couldn’t quit thinkin’ about gettin’ back here and sucking me off,” Drifter went on, feeling Shin’s hands tighten on his thighs as his head moved up and down. “What’s it like? Bein’ the big, bad Shin M – _ah_ – lphur… And just wantin’ this… damn, do that again.”

And there was the tiniest glitter in Shin’s eye that he caught in a fleeting glance that told Drifter just how much he was into this. That he was _enjoying_ himself. Maybe frustrated about it, but still. The man wouldn’t be on his knees if he didn’t like it, and from the wet trails of saliva that connected his mouth to Drifter’s cock as he pulled off to breathe, Drifter thought he must fucking _love_ it.

“Shit,” Drifter said suddenly, “You only get this desperate for it when you’re angry. I piss you off or somethin’? ‘Cause I’ll promise you this, hero, I ain’t even been tryin’ lately.”

“No.” Shin used his teeth to take off his glove, spit in his bare palm, and started stroking Drifter’s cock roughly. A glimpse below showed Shin’s other hand pressing against his pants, heel rubbing there. Drifter’s dick twitched in his hand and he hissed between his teeth.

“What is it then?” Drifter managed, the twist of Shin’s wrist making his spine turn to liquid. Damn, if it didn’t piss him off how well he knew him.

Shin didn’t answer, putting his mouth around Drifter’s cock again and goddamn _going_ for it. Drifter’s laugh melted into a long, shaky series of groans, fingers fisting tight in Shin’s hair to urge him faster-faster-faster. That was a wicked tongue for somebody who counted his words, and Drifter shivered head-to-toe as he was licked base to tip.

A lazy revelation drifted to the surface of his mind as he rolled his hips encouragingly into Shin’s hand and mouth: he’d just gotten back from patrol, obviously been nearly fried by somethin’, and was practically drooling for it.

If it wasn’t anger…

Shin hollowed out his cheeks and moaned around his cock and _there_ , there it went, Drifter came with a warning tug of his hair. Shin grabbed his hips hard and swallowed it down and, dazedly, Drifter figured a perfect blowjob was the closest he’d ever get to romance.

“Need a hand?” he asked in a loose drawl, gesturing at Shin’s kneeling form with a distracted wave, only to stop when he realized Shin was tucking himself in his pants again. “Wh – really? That was all it took for you?”

Clearly embarrassed now that orgasms were no longer in the picture, Shin sat back on his ass, legs splayed and scowl strong. “You’re really actin’ like an asshole to the guy who just went down on you?”

“What, you want a kiss?” Drifter sneered.

“See if I ever do anything for you again.”

“Don’t kid yourself, that was for _you_. I just happened to benefit. Fuckin’ adrenaline junkie.” Shin gave a mutinous look, starting to get to his feet. Drifter threw his hands in the air, insisting, “It’s the truth! You ain’t pissed at me – or you weren’t before, anyway – which’s gotta mean you’re real into danger. What happened? You start gettin’ shot at, almost die, get an itch you need scratched?”

Shin turned away to pretend to fix his cloak.

Drifter clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Bingo.”

“You’re not complaining,” Shin grumbled, then pointed at Drifter’s pants, which were still around his ankles. “You look a fool.”

He rolled his eyes, ignoring the second smart comment. “You’re the fool if you think I’m about to _complain_ about you suckin’ my brain outta my dick. Feel free to use me for all your thrillseekin’ needs. I ain’t ever gonna stop you.”

Shin wiped his lip off with a thumb slowly, biding his time and no doubt overthinking it, before putting his glove on again. “Alright,” he said, just as slowly.

He didn’t stick around, but Drifter didn’t expect him to. He had his own shit to deal with anyway; having Shin Malphur in his corner would’ve only made it more difficult to toy with his weapons. Would’ve kept him jumpy, that was for sure. Better that he disappeared again wherever he thought he needed to be. Drifter didn’t keep close enough tabs on him to know his _exact_ location… but he knew whenever Malphur was getting close to something of interest. Or someone.

Still, Drifter thought, modifying the barrel of his Trust. The guy really was fucked up. And that was saying something coming from _him_. Anger and adrenaline, and nothing in between.

Almost tragic.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. :)


End file.
